Chapter Sixty-Seven
After launching the fire arrow into the sky, Fu Yixiao sat by the trap with her knees hugged to her chest, softly comforting, "Hold on a little longer. Once he sees it, he’ll come as fast as he can." Guyu struggled to shift her body, then untied the pouch containing the deer ears from her waist and tossed it up. "Take the ears first. Guyu will follow soon."
Yixiao caught the pouch and hesitated, about to say something, when a faint sound shattered the suffocating silence—a sound she knew all too well. It was the quiet creak of a bowstring stretched to its limit.
The moment the twang rang out, Yixiao ducked low and darted to the side. No sooner had her feet touched the ground than several more bowstrings snapped in rapid succession. The once-silent forest clearing was suddenly filled with a rain of arrows. Yixiao rolled frantically, but with nowhere left to go, she tumbled into the pit, landing heavily beside Guyu.
Guyu stared wide-eyed at Yixiao, who had fallen from the sky, and stammered, "Y-you came down too?" Gritting her teeth against the pain, Yixiao pushed herself up and glared furiously at the mouth of the trap. "So it wasn’t an accident after all. How despicable!"
Cold laughter echoed above them as two gleaming arrowheads aimed straight at Fu Yixiao and Guyu in the pit.
Ye Duanfang cut off a pair of deer ears and stowed them in the sack slung over his horse’s back. He sighed and prepared to mount again.
In this world, the two most powerful forces were emotion and slaughter. And for a man like him, the thrill of killing often surpassed that of emotion. But war was one thing—indiscriminate slaughter for a purpose was another.
A squirrel emerged from the trees, nimble and clever, foraging for fallen nuts beneath a pine. Suddenly, it froze, as if listening intently, then bolted away without a trace.
In the silence, two fire arrows whistled into the sky from the depths of the forest—a signal reserved only for when a commander was in grave danger on the battlefield.
Who could it be? Aside from the Minor Imperial Concubine of the Imperial Son and that dim-witted giant, there should have been no one else in these woods.
A grave expression crossed Ye Duanfang’s face as he nocked an arrow and spurred his horse toward the source of the signal.
In the forest clearing, over a dozen men in dark gray robes busily hauled heavy sacks. Two archers stood by the trap where Fu Yixiao and Guyu were trapped, helping to pour dirt from the sacks into the pit.
Suddenly, a gray-clad lookout came running from the distance, shouting in panic, "Someone’s coming! Move!" Before anyone could react, the whistle of an arrow cut through the air. A cry of pain rang out as the running man was struck in the leg and collapsed.
Panic erupted among the men outside the pit. They dropped their sacks, and a leader-like figure rushed forward to drag the wounded man, trying to retreat into the forest.
The sound of galloping hooves pounded like a drumbeat against their hearts. A rider burst from the trees like an arrow, and in the blink of an eye, a second shot struck down the gray-robed leader who was dragging his comrade. Ye Duanfang roared as he charged forward, "Who are you? All of you, stop right there!"
Almost simultaneously, another horse leaped from the bushes—this one bearing Feng Suige, his expression dark and menacing. Spotting Ye Duanfang with his bow drawn, Feng Suige bellowed hoarsely, "Where’s Yixiao?! Where is she?!"Ye Duanfang froze for a moment—earlier, he had only glimpsed the strange group of gray-clad men busily surrounding a large pit on the ground. Now, hearing Feng Suige's question, he instinctively turned his gaze toward the trap.
In that instant, the gray-clad men had all withdrawn, leaving only chaotic footprints mixed with bloodstains and scattered bags of soil.
Following his gaze, Feng Suige's heart leaped to his throat. He dismounted in a flash and rushed to the edge of the pit. One glance was enough to nearly blind him with shock.
Ye Duanfang had no time to chase the fleeing gray-clad men. He sheathed his arrows and hurried over to steady the swaying Feng Suige. "Imperial Son," he called softly, peering into the trap.
Arrows were embedded in the pit walls and in the broad back of Guyu, who lay half-buried under the soil on the left side of the pit. And on the right...
On the right was a sharply piled mound of earth.
Ye Duanfang was equally stunned. He had heard of the complicated entanglement between this Minor Imperial Concubine, born a commoner of Brocade, and the Imperial Son. Before this contest, the Lord of the Nation, Feng Qishan, had summoned him specifically, even instructing him to win at all costs.
Though he disliked this Minor Imperial Concubine, who had once slaughtered Su Sha soldiers on the battlefield—Ye Duanfang sighed—this might not be a bad ending.
For anything, death is a cruel conclusion. Yet it is precisely death that brings the most final resolution.
Severe heartache wracked Feng Suige's body with violent tremors, as though his heart had been pierced, blood dripping drop by drop. He gasped for breath, each inhale halting, each exhale carrying unbearable pain from his heart.
His eyes fixed unwaveringly on the scattered arrows, a strange hissing sound escaping his throat like a sigh. After listening for a while, Ye Duanfang finally made out the words he kept repeating: "He killed Yixiao... he killed Yixiao..." Suddenly, Feng Suige shoved Ye Duanfang away with a violent push. "You're an accomplice!!!"
With a metallic clang, Feng Suige drew the long blade from his waist. His bloodshot eyes held not a single tear, glaring at Ye Duanfang like a beast ready to devour its prey, his voice terrifyingly dark. "If she's dead, you won't live either—"
Ye Duanfang retreated several steps. Feng Suige wouldn't listen to explanations now, but he had to try. "Imperial Son, please calm down. Your subordinate—"
A faint groan rose from the pit. Though weak, it was clear enough for both men to hear. Feng Suige's ferocious expression froze, swiftly shifting to disbelief. He spun around and stumbled toward the pit. "Yixiao!"
Ye Duanfang's brow also relaxed as he exhaled softly, quickly following.
Fu Yixiao crawled out—from beneath Guyu's body, covered in blood from head to toe, she emerged from under the silent Guyu.
"Guyu? Guyu?!" Ignoring the two men who had jumped into the pit one after another, she paused for a moment before tentatively shaking the motionless, dull-witted Guyu, riddled with arrows and dirt. Guyu had already been rolled onto his side by her efforts, lifeless.
"Guyu, Guyu, Guyu, Guyu...!!!" She pushed harder, tears welling in her eyes but refusing to fall.
When the first arrow had struck, Guyu, who had been leaning against the pit wall, had thrown himself over her, pressing her tightly beneath him."Guyu, protect..." His words had always been slurred, yet these few phrases rang in Yixiao's ears as clear and loud as thunder, arrows piercing his back one after another.
"Win for me..." His voice grew fainter, yet carried a faint smile, "Minor Imperial Concubine, so fragrant... like mother..." At last it fell silent, leaving only the dull thud of arrows sinking into flesh and the clang of metal against metal, each accompanied by Guyu's reflexive spasms, gradually growing weaker until they ceased entirely.
Amidst the rain of arrows, Guyu's body completely shielded Fu Yixiao—she remained unharmed.
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